Proposing Alliances
by Canadino
Summary: The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plains. And so do marriage proposals. Main Spain/SItaly, with tidbits of US/UK, Germany/NItaly, Greece/Japan


**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: --

**Minimal fluff 09!**

--

Proposing Alliances

Germany proposed to his brother with a tomato ring.

Honestly, Romano did not even know why he was here.

He didn't even know who called this stupid meeting. It was probably America, who wanted to brag about his strengthened alliance with England. Arrogant idiot. Somehow Spain tagged along with him and now they, along with England, America, Germany, his stupid brother, Japan, and Greece, were attending what seemed to be a couples night at some local bar. Homicidal tendencies grew within Romano and if he had to hear his brother gush about how he was so dense he didn't even know Germany was proposing until two months later he would have to kill his own flesh and blood.

It was pure agony sitting through the wedding reception. And now all he had to show for it was the stupid tomato ring on his brother's finger and a more modest gold one on Germany's. Although Germany didn't look so hot at the idea of this meeting either, but at least the stupid lederhosen nation amused himself with toying with his brother's curl. God damn him.

"You think that's anything spectacular?" America scoffed, leaning back on the couch and looking pleased with himself. "I proposed much _cooler_."

"If you mean nearly choking me with the ring, I think that hardly counts as _cool_ you git." England glared at him, with the silver band on his finger glimmering. America shrugged, saying, "You said you wanted me to propose uniquely."

"I never said I wanted you to propose to me, you prick. I just said I wanted our alliance to be stronger."

"And what could be stronger than marriage?" America announced rather loudly to the whole bar. Wrapping one arm around England and pointing the other hand toward the sky, as if England was Lewis and he was Clark, America regained the shining pride in his face. "I believe we have ties now unbreakable, my dear England."

Romano wanted to stab himself in the face with the fork, but Spain just had to grab it at the last minute to scoop a piece of fucking pie in his mouth and America started on his little story. Oh _gods._

--

"_I want our alliance to be stronger but I don't want you to have another stupid pact or pledge like everyone has. If we're going to be affiliated, you'd better make it unique."_

_That, basically in America's ears, was a plea for a marriage proposal. So, being the hero and stud he was, he went out and got the rings._

_Just how to propose uniquely, now? Putting the ring in desserts or champagne wouldn't do; knowing thick-headed England, the nation probably would swallow it without noticing. It just wouldn't do to be normal and go down on one knee. After all, he _was_ America. _

_Hmm…_

_One night, while England was cleaning up after a dinner composing of both nation's (crappy, as France would describe it) foods, America grabbed him as he was making his way to the kitchen (causing broken china) and whipped him around for an intense, breath-stealing kiss. England was torn between kneeing America where it hurt or actually participating when he nearly choked on something hard that had fallen into his mouth. He told America not to eat so much sweets; now his teeth were falling out. When they broke apart and England extracted the mysterious object from his mouth, it revealed to be a ring._

"_Will you marry me, England?"_

"_No."_

_It was the default answer England would refer to whenever America did something stupid and asked a question afterwards. It was almost always involving a stupid invention or a useless agreement so England decided this was no different. Of course, after watching America sulk famously as he was known for doing, England relented – and besides, it wasn't like he didn't want to._

--

"I _didn't_," England insisted when America finished the story. "But…it's just what you said. There's nothing stronger than marriage. I didn't do it for you." It was a rather lame attempt, really.

"Neh, how about you, Japan? What about you and Greece?"

Would it be rude to walk out now? Romano debated with himself about such a course of action. It wouldn't be hard; after all, all attention was suddenly directed toward Greece, who was entertaining one of his many cats, and Japan, who was sitting and minding his own business.

"Ehm…what about me and Japan?" Greece looked surprised, as if he hadn't even noticed he was sitting in the meeting. Romano wasn't expecting anything else; after all, all Greece seemed to have eyes for were cats and Japan, and maybe in that order.

"About your engagement!" America prompted, but Greece had become too absorbed in one of his cats to pay attention any longer. Japan watched him and sighed.

"I'll tell you, if you must know."

--

_It was really in the middle of the night, to be completely honest. No one was staying over so Japan could actually get some sleep without someone complaining about the various 'spirits' in his house, which he still maintained didn't exist. He was completely comfortable in bed when he heard a scratching sound outside. _

_He knew no one from his nation would disturb him this ungodly hour, and it didn't sound like knocking from the hands of any other nation either. It sounded soft but determined near the ground, so Japan suspected it might be a demon or a sprite coming to visit him._

_When he neared the front door, the scratching sounds become more persistent…_

(At this point in the story, America paled noticeably.)

_When he opened the door, Japan found himself facing a considerable amount of cats_ (at which America both breathed a sigh of relief and gasped at, both loudly)_. Cats were a sign of good luck sometimes so he wasn't particularly worried. Although there were a lot of them…they mewed softly around him, pawing at the hem of the kimono he was wearing. Then the boss cat (well, Japan supposed this was the boss cat, since all the other cats parted ways respectfully for him) came forward with a box in his mouth._

_The box contained a ring._

_There were no parents to meet; after all, Greece's mother had died and Japan had ruled himself for as long as he could remember (with China as his 'older brother'. Not.). The cats gathered at his feet as he wondered why they weren't leaving yet – he had gotten what they had come for. _

_Ah, of course. They were waiting for the box. They were supposed to return with the box, empty or not. _

_A few days later, the cats returned to Greece with an empty box…_

--

He couldn't believe they were related by blood. Feliciano actually squealed when Japan finished his story. Damn his little brother and his vocal cords.

"That was cute and very Greek," Spain chimed in.

Japan only smiled. Greece, being spacey as usual, grabbed all his cats and Japan as well and held them close in a mass of furry bodies and warmth. If Romano had to face another five minutes of this fluffiness (with no pun intended) he was going to be sick.

"What about you, Spain-san?" his brother asked, suddenly turning on them. "Nee, what about you, Romano?"

Romano frowned and crossed his arms. "What about us? We're not married."

"Eh?!" This seemed to be news to his brother, who Romano knew had known this. "But why not? Spain-san, why haven't you proposed to onii-chan yet?"

"Who said I wanted to marry _Spain_?" Romano asked loudly, before Spain could say anything. "_That_ would be hell."

"That's exactly my case," England muttered to himself. America, with his selective hearing, didn't catch it.

"Spain, that's very unlike you," he said, looking disapproving through his glasses. "You're the country of passion after all."

Spain shrugged. "I just haven't gotten around to doing it, that's all."

"Then it's going to happen!" Ignoring the flushed expression on his brother's face, Italy turned to Germany. "Can we go? I wanna see onii-chan get married!"

"Um…sure."

They were only talking about the nations' alliances but either way, Romano was glad when it was over. After parting their ways, Romano walked home with Spain – not because he _wanted_ to, but because it was a rather long way off to Italy and Spain was the only one he could stand bunking with for a night without going completely insane, although he peaked on it occasionally. It was raining but Spain had anticipated it ("The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plains!") and brought an umbrella. They were walking in an unholy silence when Romano decided to break it.

"If…If you're planning on proposing to me in those stupid flashy ways, I'll say no and kill you, okay?"

"Don't worry," Spain said cheerfully. "I wasn't even thinking about it!"

He wasn't even thinking about it? O-Of course he wasn't! He wasn't either, dammit! Ducking out from under the umbrella, Romano stormed ahead, never mind it was raining like a mother. Spain tried to catch up with him with the umbrella. "Romano! You're going to catch a cold."

"Then I'll catch one, dammit! Leave me alone!"

When they got to Spain's house, Romano locked himself up in his room, despite Spain's protests to dry him off first. That was it. From now on, he and Spain were no longer talking.

--

When Romano went downstairs (feeling fine, he might add) the next morning, Spain was there to greet him in the doorway. "Morning, Romano." Pushing up against the unsuspecting Italian, Spain grabbed him and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Such affections were dutifully returned with a violent shove.

"Get off me, Spain!" Spain blinked as Romano breezed past him. "Don't you remember we're not talking, dammit?"

"We're not? Why?"

Romano did not even know how he had been under the control of such a thick-headed nation in the past. Grabbing a piece of toast on the table, Romano left the house before he had to be assaulted with innocent questions such as, "What are you talking about?" or "Romano, why aren't we talking?" Spain was such an idiotic idiot!

He had to meet with a branch of the mafia today. Yes, the mafia was running a decent amount of things in the shadows. If he could have exterminated the problem alone, he would have. But since he couldn't, Romano just had to deal with meeting with them to make sure they didn't cause a mass chaos of destruction. Or at least beg them not to.

"Eh? Italy-san? What's wrong? You look upset."

Romano glanced at the mafia boss who had addressed him. Mafia bosses these days…shrinking in size yet still wielding an impressive amount of power. Really, he could have sworn any of his underlings would have looked the part. Well, he wasn't going to argue about it.

"I'm fine."

"Hey, does it have to do with Spain?" The mafia boss had brought two subordinates today: a raven haired cheerful looking swordsman and a silver haired bomb sporting punk. "Probably is, right? Since you're always having problems with him."

Romano wondered if it was even worth it to correct them. The raven haired Mafioso seemed innocent enough and his question was not supposed to be sarcastic. "Maybe," he muttered.

"What is it about this time?"

"Every nation is getting alliances and…hey, I thought this was about the mafia, dammit!" Romano had to keep the upper hand here.

"If you'd like, we could exterminate him for you." The silver haired thug held up a bunch of dynamite. "It would be easy and free of charge, since it's for you, Italy-san."

"Um, no. No thank you." He couldn't get into a whole civil war in which his own mafia attempted to blow up another nation. And besides, it wasn't like one small branch of the mafia could take out Spain single-handedly. Although he had seen one of the other members of this mafia branch, the one with the tonfas and the bird. Now he suspected _that_ guy could probably take Spain out. Or perhaps Germany.

Never mind. He wasn't actually going to _use_ his mafia as an army.

He was just going to suffer through stupid Spain by himself.

The mafia meeting was swift and painless, surprisingly, but this mafia boss was one of Romano's favorites. Soft yet determined and preferred as little bloodshed as possible. Romano went home and decided all he wanted to do was just shower and hit the hay. It had been a long day.

He was just stripping down to step into the warm bath when he noticed he had a silver ring on his finger and he hadn't even noticed it.

"Spain!" Coming unannounced (but clothed, he wasn't shameless like his brother), Romano burst into the villa and stormed up to the baffled-looking nation. "What is this?" He held up his hand to show the silver ring.

Spain stared at the ring, then at Romano without changing expressions. "What is it? It's your engagement ring, of course." Like he should have known.

"What?! How…dammit, how did you get this on without me noticing?"

"This morning. When I kissed you. I thought you knew, cause you were storming off afterwards. You didn't know?" Sensing the Italian's agitation, Spain wrapped his arms loosely around Romano.

"But…but…I thought you said you weren't even thinking about it!"

Spain blinked. "Thinking about it? I said I wasn't thinking about proposing to you like everyone else, but I never said I wasn't going to propose to you…" A light bulb of realization flashed on in Spain's head. "Oh, is _that_ what you were mad about? I'm sorry then. I didn't know."

"Damn right you didn't know…" Romano muttered.

"Well, did it work? I did it rather modestly, against my passionate personality, wouldn't you say? Hmm? Will you do it? Will you marry me, Romano?"

Flushing violently, so as resembling a tomato as Spain so tactfully noticed when they were younger, Romano buried his face in Spain's shoulder before answering with a muffled, "Mmfph."

"What was that?"

"I-I said _yes_ dammit, and don't make me say it again!"

Spain chuckled. "You're so _cute_, Romano."

Owari

--

Note: I can't speak, I have so many cavities. Remember to brush your teeth after reading, my dear readers! Fluff abounded! America's way of proposing is my own personal dream, don't you dare steal it unless you're going to get married to me. Worry not, this is not my Greece/Japan fic that I mentioned before (why can't I ever get to writing it yet?!). Subtle Reborn references, for anyone who cared to catch it. Spain's thickness and Romano's tsudereness is my moe. I would stand a root canal for them. Review if you feel the same way. Or even if you don't. Because Romano will sic his mafia on you if you don't.


End file.
